


Erisedd na Noissiap

by merdragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Anidala, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Harry Potter was Raised by Sirius Black, Jedi, Kinda Crack, M/M, Multi, OT3, Obidala, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Tags Are Hard, like what if the Jedi order and the order of the phoenix were sorta the same thing??, obianidala, obikin, pretty much the whole gang is here and if you don't see them yet, wolfstar, you will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2018-10-20 21:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10671201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merdragon/pseuds/merdragon
Summary: The Magical Minister of Foreign Affairs, Obi-Wan Kenobi, is really quite attractive, something both Anakin and Padmé find to be rather distracting.non-linear snapshots of the Skywalkers' and Friends' contribution to the fight against the Dark Lord.  No, the other one. He-who-must-not-be-named.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo I wanted to write an Obianidala story without the overly dramatic setting of the Star Wars universe, and then I pictured them as Potter wizards instead of Space Wizards and this happened.
> 
> The first chapter is kind of shit, but I wanted to get the intro out so that I can get into all of the other scenes.
> 
> I have loads of scenes that take place chronologically before this, so just remember that none of this is sequential; everything is dated accordingly.

_ July 1995 C.E. _

Anakin Skywalker had been in love with only one person ever. From the moment his eleven year-old self had seen the older Ravenclaw across the Great Hall, his infatuation had taken hold and never left, not when they began to date at eighteen and twenty-one; not when they married two years later; nor when she gave birth to their twins a year after that.  Despite their rather mercurial temperaments, Anakin and Padmé had always been utterly devoted to each other.  Even now, after sixteen years of marriage, no one had ever caught the eye of either of them. 

It came then, as a surprise, when Anakin felt his stomach swoop at the sight of a stunning man entering the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place.

An air of importance hung about the man, and Anakin knew that he should recognize him from somewhere. Handsome features were enhanced, rather than hidden, by an auburn beard trimmed close to a sharp jawline. It matched the neat, silky strands atop his head; blond highlights and a glowing complexion hinted at lengthy time in the sun, while a pleasant, neutral smile gave the impression that the blue-eyed man was in politics. Shame. Padmé was just about the only politician that Anakin could stand. Ah. Padmé. He glanced over at his wife, who was staring right back at him, a knowing smirk  on her face. Shrugging sheepishly, he turned his attention back to Dumbledore.  

“--who you may very well know is our Magical Minister of Foreign Affairs.  He has returned to London for the very same reason you all are here: to fight back against Lord Voldemort’s forces!” 

The man (whose name Anakin had missed) cast a speculative eye at the seated Order, clearly making silent assessments.  They were a rather motley crew, with Anakin, Tano, Tonks, Windu, Moody, and Shacklebolt representing the aurors; Dumbledore, Yoda, McGonagall, Snape, and Koon for Hogwarts; and Padmé, Arthur Weasley, Podmore, and Black there for various sections of the Ministry of Magic.  Jones, Fisto, Doge, Vance, Malbus, Îmwe, and Ti had devoted their lives to the Order and even Ohnaka and Fletcher contributed in their own twisted way.  Lupin was off liasoning with werewolves, while Hagrid did the same with the giants. 

Padmé had been doing everything she could to convince Minister Fudge to take the threat of Voldemort seriously, but alas, the members of the Order were the only ones who had taken Harry Potter’s words to heart when he had Portkeyed back to the Triwizard maze clutching the corpse of Cedric Diggory. 

Said boy was the only underage wizard at the weathered oak table, his presence something that Black, as his guardian, had been firm about.  Voldemort’s unhealthy obsession with him meant that Harry needed to be aware of everything about the Dark Lord’s movements. 

Shaken from his musings by Padmé’s sharp elbow, Anakin perked up to listen to the MMFA. 

“...we do have some allies overseas; this number will grow as time passes and we can draw more to our cause.  Queen Breha and Minister Organa have made public statements in support of Potter’s claim, so the magical community of Spain can provide resources. Queen Breha must be cautious, however, in providing muggle aid, but the three of us are optimistic that Spain can be one of our greatest allies. The last thing they want is more dictators and…” 

Anakin began to zone out again.  As an auror, his job was focused on the more immediate type of action, unlike Padmé, who listened raptly to the man (what was his name?!) speak.  His mind started to wander again, taking idle note of how the Minister’s lips formed some sort of important words about Poland and President Kryze’s movement away from her traditional pacifist approach.  Why should he be interested in that when it was far more fascinating to study how the broad man’s shoulders filled out his robes? Was it their short Spanish cut? The tunic-like robes and leggings looked far better-suited to the heat of the Iberian Peninsula than drizzly London, but that's what Warming Charms were for.  And Merlin, the man could pull them off.  Anakin, too, wanted to pull them off, but in an entirely different manner. 

“Mister Skywalker!”  As always, Dumbledore’s voice somehow implied that he knew what Anakin was thinking about. “Do you have any objections?”

“Ye-no, none at all!” Shifting awkwardly in his chair, Anakin wondered just what he had agreed to and if he'd regret it.

“Excellent! Anakin will be Obi-Wan’s bodyguard while he is in Britain; Scrimgeour should approve Kingsley’s recommendation and then, then we'll have quite a team to act from within the Ministry!”

Oh. Fuck. He'd definitely regret this. 

-

That night, as he and Padmé lay in bed, she giggled madly as she peppered his face with kisses. She was there. She understood his conundrum.  And she had appreciated Obi-Wan Kenobi, Magical Minister of Foreign Affairs, just as much as Anakin had. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skywalker presence at Hogwarts means that the troll break-in at Halloween doesn't exactly go the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I do have more chapters planned. Eleven more, in fact, of which this was not one, but still felt like writing. I tried to make the eleven-year-olds speak like eleven-year-olds, hence their awkwardness and age-appropriate speech. Obviously, this chapter is G-rated. Not a super actiony scene, but the first sign of the Skykids changing Potter canon.

_Halloween 1991 C.E._

By the end of October, Luke and Leia had settled into classes at Hogwarts with ease. The utter disaster of the first flying lesson had resulted in the entrenchment of divisions within Slytherin; Leia led Blaise, Jyn, and Daphne in her camp, while Malfoy and Parkinson shared their domination of Crabbe and Goyle. The last two Slytherins, Bulstrode and Nott, kept to themselves, clearly thinking themselves better than the rest.  Luke could almost have been an honourary Slytherin, he was so green with envy at not witnessing the face-off between Malfoy and Potter, and the resulting explosion from Leia at the blond. Hufflepuff had partnered with Ravenclaw for the class, where Luke had performed quite well, but it was not quite so exciting.

It did make for a much more pleasant common room, he assumed, though the cosy burrow hardly needed any help in that regard. Luke adored the lushness that the myriad of plants tucked into every corner added to the atmosphere. Within his house, Biggs had become his best friend, with Hannah and Susan rounding out their little group; they had found great fun in trying to make the acquaintance of all of the ghosts. It was such a shame that the most boring ghost was the one that they saw the most often, every time they attended History of Magic.  At least it wasn’t as bad as Defence Against the Dark Arts. DADA had sounded like it was going to be the best class at Hogwarts. Instead, Quirrell instructed the children in dry theory.

Their class on Halloween was worse than usual. In addition to the usual lesson, Professor Quirrell surprised the children with an oral quiz, snapping in uncharacteristic irritation at those who answered incorrectly. Even Potter got a glare, the only person who had the right to be surly on Halloween. By the time the class split for their last classes of the day, Hufflepuffs to Magical Theory with Ravenclaw and Gryffindors to Charms with Slytherin, nearly everyone was in a foul mood.

Flitwick seemed to sense this, announcing that they were all ready to move on from swishing and flicking to actually levitating feathers. Leia and Daphne picked up the skill rapidly, coaching Blaise and Jyn until all four of them were able to float the quills nearly up to the rafters. The Gryffindors were having a bit more trouble. Finnegan somehow had made a small explosion. To make things worse, like Crabbe and Goyle, Longbottom and Weasley hadn’t been able to even budge their feathers. And, unless Granger were able to read the mood of her housemate soon, Weasley would create a very different type of explosion.

As class wrapped up, his mocking voice carried over to where Leia and Jyn were gathering their bags.

“‘It's _Levi-OH-sa_ , not _Levi-oh-SAH!’_ She’s a nightmare, honestly.” Rolling her eyes at the sheer lack of decency the redhead had, Leia saw Potter start to protest, but it was too late. Granger brushed past Leia, clearly in tears. Leia debated for a moment, then ran to catch up with the Gryffindor and tug her into a spare classroom.

“Do you need a hanky?” She offered it to Granger awkwardly, propped herself up against a desk until the girl had calmed, then followed up with, “Weasley _is_ a moron, but I do think Potter at least was sympathetic to you.”

Granger looked bewildered. “I don’t understand why he’s mad in the first place. Honestly, I was just trying to help. Was he jealous, do you think?”

“Maybe he thought you were calling him stupid. Boys don’t like that.”

“But he _is!_ ” Granger exclaimed.

“Well, how’s your flying?” Leia asked pointedly. Perhaps Granger could see the value in an exchange of help.

With a sheepish smile, Granger shrugged.

“Look, Granger,” Leia began. “You’re smart, but you won’t be able to do anything with your brains if no one wants to talk to you. Why don’t you ask Weasley for help with flying in exchange for helping him with schoolwork? Tell him it’s for the glory of Gryffindor and house points or something like that.” She nudged Granger’s elbow and the two girls began walking toward the Great Hall for supper.  Clearly deep in thought, the Gryffindor stayed quiet for the remainder of the trip, not even flinching as bats swooped low over their heads.

“Hey, Skywalker? Thank you.” Granger twisted a long curl around her finger, fidgety in uncharacteristic humbleness.

Leia smiled back at her as they joined the mass of students, waited a moment until she knew both the Gryffindors and Slytherins saw them together, then hugged Granger and waved a goodbye. As she strode up the hall, her face slipped back into a stony Slytherin mask, but inside, she was smirking at how an alarmed Potter immediately turned away from his treacle tarts towards Granger. At her own pumpkin-covered table, Malfoy’s face was a deep maroon. Perfect.

The feast was cut short due to a break-in by a troll, so Leia was unable to see if Granger was properly apologized to. However, as the trio fended off the demands of an irate Professor Snape the next day, she was wedged tightly between Potter and Weasley and would remain so for the foreseeable future.


End file.
